


things you said to take me to bed

by pinkmanite2 (Pinkmanite)



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 05:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/pinkmanite2
Summary: Sex would never become obsolete.





	things you said to take me to bed

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is crossposted on tumblr (baewhishaw), just moving things over to AO3 for safekeeping ♡

James Bond never felt lost. That is, not until he met Q.

It’s a brave new world, the twenty-first century, and he was sure he would eventually be left behind, rendered obsolete and behind in technology. World War I was fought on horseback, after all.

Sex would never become obsolete. Sex in itself is a weapon, its wielder a master of the human mind, the human body. It’s a procedure once broken down to its truest form. Every piece fits, no matter the place, the time, the who. It’s always the same.

At least, that was Bond’s old, outdated theory. This young man, this leader of the new age, seemed to be shattering everything that Bond once believed in.

Bond has never felt lost until he’s lost in the curves and dips of Q’s body. He has the young man propped up on the counter, legs wrapped securely around Bond’s waist. The boy sucks at his neck while his nimble fingers expertly undo the buttons on his shirt. Bond shrugs it off and groans when Q doesn’t hesitate to kiss down the newly exposed skin.

His hands press against Bond’s firm chest, running up and down his sides. Bond grabs the neck of Q’s jumper and pulls it off. It catches in the process, causing Q to curse at his entanglement, but soon enough, it’s meeting the floor and Bond is pressing their bare chests together.

Bond shoves his fingers through Q’s hair, gently massaging his scalp then suddenly gripping the roots. Q groans uncomfortably but Bond can feel his erection react beautifully against his abdomen. Bond clashes their mouths together, savoring Q’s essence. He’s a mixture of bergamot oil and moscato, overall sweet and hearty all at once. 

Q bites Bond’s lip until he finally pulls off. The boy is panting, lips perfectly wet and swollen up to a nice red. He’s absolutely delectable. Bond feels himself lose any and all control. Screw the traditions, screw the procedure. He  _wants_  to lose himself in everything that is Q.

“Take me to bed, James,” Q orders firmly, “ _now_.”

Bond smirks. Perhaps the new world will prove quite fun. 


End file.
